Falling Backwards
by agentofchaosx
Summary: When world famous recording artist Santana Lopez is murdered in her own home, the world stops. But for twelve former students of McKinley High School, the world doesn't stop, it implodes. / Future!AU. Heavily angsty.
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

When a celebrity dies, the world stops. The loss of a young talent hits everyone hard, a fan or not. Tributes flood in, fans gather together, remember the talent that the world has lost, and think about what could've been.

But for twelve former students of McKinley High School, the world doesn't stop, it implodes.

The members of the McKinley High glee club are all finding their own new directions. Finn is embarking on a worldwide journey in order to 'find himself' after a messy break up with the woman whom he thought was the love of his life. Rachel finds herself bitter and jaded after a failed attempt to make it on the Broadway stage. Quinn is living happily with her partner Noah, trying to see the world through a lens while struggling with demons from her past. Brittany's on the fast track to making it as a dancer in L.A. Everyone has their story, their ambitions, but with these dreams and journeys comes the loss of friendship. Most of them have drifted apart as they try to find their own way in the world.

Santana Lopez has easily become the most successful out of them all. Now a multi-platinum recording artist, Santana has truly made it in the world, living the jet-setting high life she had always dreamed of.

She is both well-known and adored worldwide, so when she is murdered in her own home by a stalker, the world is stunned.

Brought back together by a cruel twist of fate, the former classmates must band together to help each other grieve for their lost friend. Former loves, rivalries and losses are brought back to light, and the men and women of the glee club formerly known as the New Directions must fight not to be torn apart while suffering through the hardest part of their lives.


	2. The End Begins

**A/N: Alright, here's the first chapter. Basically, I plan to just write about how they all deal with Santana's death and the aftermath of it. I'm not quite sure how future chapters will turn out, I'm kinda just winging it for now until I figure it all out so I hope you'll bare with me. Hope you all enjoy(:**

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><p>Rachel is the first to find out.<p>

She had just finished a gig at the local bar, and had made a grand total of fifty three bucks. She stumbled into her apartment at some ungodly hour, happy that she had made it through the set without breaking down about how pathetic her life was, and also just a tad drunk.

Stepping over the various clothing items on the floor, she fell ungracefully onto the tacky red couch in her living room. She hadn't meant to turn on the television. If anything, she wanted the house to be completely silent since every sound seemed to be ten times louder than usual. But once she heard the familiar buzz of the TV she couldn't bring herself to stop it, only buried her face in the arm of the sofa. She didn't pay any attention, just simply let the words blur into each other.

It's the words Santana Lopez that makes her head snap up.

Over the years, Rachel had developed a habit of switching the channel whenever her former classmate would appear on TV. She was usually accepting an award, appearing on a red carpet, or performing for her gazillions of fans all over the globe.

She was reaching for the remote control sitting on the coffee table in front of her when she quietly became aware that it was a news channel that was blaring in the room. Rachel wondered why on earth Santana would be featured on the news. '_Probably donated millions of dollars to some poor African country_' she thought to herself.

She only looked at the screen for a split second, but the words she sees make her stop right in her tracks. That make her eyes bulge out of her head. That make her breathing almost stop completely.

She reads and re-reads them, not even listening to the spoken words anymore. Surely they had a made a mistake? Some sort of typo? She blinks constantly, expecting the words to change every time she opens her eyes again. But they don't. No, the words stay the same no matter how hard she wants them too.

_Santana Lopez, found dead in her home, aged 23._

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><p>Finn is the second.<p>

He wakes up groggily in a cheap motel in France. Given that he hadn't been working for the past six months, he couldn't exactly afford the most lavish accommodation. But still, the trip had been worth it. Six months ago he packed a duffel bag, withdrew the few savings he had, and embarked on a worldwide trip to try and 'find' himself. It was cheesy, but it had worked. After going through a minor identity crisis during his senior year, and a messy break up not long afterwards, it was fair to say that Finn was kind of at a loss with himself. But going on this trip really had helped him find himself, and learn new things about himself as well. For example, he learnt that he really didn't enjoy having to share the same bed with a German tourist who obviously hadn't taken a shower in what smelt like the past six months.

But that didn't matter. The creaky beds, the strange bugs in the room, none of it mattered. He didn't know anyone here, or anywhere for that matter. There was no pressure, no attention, just _Finn. _He had left Lima and the New Directions behind, he was his own man now.

So of course when he sees the words 'Santana Lopez' on a newspaper while walking along the streets of Paris, he's a little bewildered. He's seen her name before, seen her face in the flashing lights, but that was at home. Here in the cheap streets of Europe, _they_ didn't exist. This was the one place where he could escape from every member of that damn club, yet even now they still managed to follow him around.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he walks past the newspaper stand, attempting to push the thoughts of Santana and everyone else in that town to the back of his mind.

It's when he realizes the word **DECEASED** is printed across the paper in bold, black letters that he stops moving.

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><p>Quinn is the third to find out.<p>

She decided to walk home from her afternoon shift at the studio. When Noah called her and asked her if she wanted a ride, Quinn immediately declined. She said it was because she needed fresh air after a day of being locked up in the studio doing a shoot, but she was lying and they both knew it. Truthfully, she just didn't want to be home right now. It was the first week of June, the week of Beth's birthday.

Despite the fact that it had been seven years since she had given birth to their illegitimate daughter, the pain had not lessened. In fact, she thought it might have gotten worse. Recently, Noah had spoken of starting a family together. They were financially secure, lived in a nice neighbourhood, and most of all, were in love. But every time he had brought up the subject she immediately shut him down, because in her mind, they already had started a family. A family that they had given up on.

The subject was the catalyst for many of their arguments. Only last week the two were brought to rows after he had brought up the idea once again. She had berated him for being so insensitive, that this was not the right time to do this. He had questioned why now was not the right time, why there was never a right time with her. And then the realization hit the both of them. He had forgotten. He had forgotten their daughter's birthday.

Since then they had barely spoken, avoiding each other in the mornings, sleeping in different rooms at night. This week was the week they had dreaded ever since they were sixteen, and the end of it only meant that there was only three hundred and sixty five days to wait until the next one. But somewhere along the line he had managed to forget, to move on with his life. She had tried to do the same over the years, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't. She'd see a pregnant woman on the street, and be reminded of the nights she spent in Mercedes' guest room patting her stomach as the baby kicked. She'd see a commercial for a new toy on TV, and be reminded of how she never got to do that for her own daughter.

Suddenly, the shrill sound of her phone ringing awoke her from her thoughts. She pulled it out of her pocket only to see that once again Noah was calling her. She figured that he's calling her to offer her a ride home yet again, and immediately becomes frustrated. She answered the phone prepared to yell at him, but the sound of his voice cuts her off. It's dark and it's solemn, and she instantly knows something is wrong. The first word she hears is Santana.

The phone falls out of her hand before he can even finish the sentence.

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><p>Brittany's the last one to find out.<p>

She takes her time getting to the door when she hears the doorbell ringing, as she's a bit worried that it might be her uncle coming to yell at her after his daughter had failed her geography test after seeking Brittany's help.

She opens the door, prepared to tell him that there's no way she could've failed with knowledge such as O being the capital of Ohio, but instead is greeted by members of her former glee club.

A grin is firmly planted on Brittany's face as Kurt, Blaine, Quinn, Puck, Tina and Mercedes are standing in her apartment's doorway, and she is about to hug them all once she realizes something. None of them are smiling back. In fact, they seemed rather... sad. Kurt is holding onto Blaine's hand for dear life, as if he'd fall over without the support. Mercedes stood completely still with her arms wrapped around herself, not daring to look Brittany in the eye. Tina fidgeted impatiently with her wedding ring. Quinn stood in front of her, eyes puffy and red, a sympathetic hand placed on her shoulder from behind her by Puck.

"Have you heard?" Quinn says in a voice barely audible enough to hear.

"Heard what", Brittany replies. A small whimper escapes from Kurt's mouth, who is now completely wrapped in Blaine's arms. Suddenly, she's aware of everyone's eyes looking at her. "What's going on?", she asks. "Why do you all look so sad?".

Quinn takes a deep breath.

"It's Santana."


	3. Putting Others Ahead

**A/N: Okay, before I start I just wanna thank everyone for all of the reviews :D I got more reviews on one chapter than I have on any of my other fics, so thanks(: Of course, I know they're all probably from the photoset I made on Tumblr, so I wanna thank everyone who reblogged that and left all of the lovely reblog comments on it.  
>So this chapter is kinda inadvertently Quinn based. But like I said on the last chapter, I'm kinda just winging at it atm so I'm just really coming up with all of the ideas as I go along.<br>Also asuifhadsifuhas how good was this weeks episode! One of the best episodes of the entire series imo. Of course, it kinda means that I'll have to wait and see how THAT storyline develops so I can develop my own, but it's worth it.**

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><p>The next few days were a blur. A blur of flights, funeral plans, and tears. It didn't take long for news to spread to the rest of the former glee club members, whether it was from being told by one of their own or finding out from the media, everyone knew now.<p>

Quinn immediately put herself in charge of organizing everyone to come to the funeral. She had spoken to Mr. & Mrs. Lopez and had assured them that she would get all of Santana's former friends to the funeral no matter what it took. She was glad to be able to take something off of the grief stricken parent's shoulders, even if it was as minuscule as organizing twelve people.

Upon talking to them, she learnt that they had planned the funeral to be back in Lima. They had told her that in Santana's final will it had stated that if anything were to happen to her, her funeral was to be held at the Lima Funeral Home, the same place where Jean Sylvester's funeral had been held when they were juniors. Quinn had to admit that she was surprised. She always thought that Santana would want a large, public and lavish affair to celebrate her passing, especially since she had become a celebrity. But then Quinn remembered how easily Santana hid things from people. Hell, she managed to convince almost the entire school that she lived in one of the roughest parts of town for four years, instead of the mansion that she actually lived in placed in one of the most upper class parts of town.

As a result, she had told everyone to fly to Lima instead of L.A where Santana had lived for the past five years. They had all agreed to stay at Quinn's mother's house as it had enough rooms to hold everyone and was also a more cost-effective accommodation. However, some of their friends and their respective other halves were still to arrive at the house. Finn had called the night before saying that he would catch a plane back as soon as possible, Rachel was having trouble organizing funds to pay for an airline ticket (and being as stubborn as she was, refused to take anyone else's help), Artie was having a few difficulties organizing a flight that would accommodate him and his wheelchair, Sam had to organize a sitter for his daughter while he and his wife were in Lima, and Mercedes was boarding a plane that night with her husband after he had insisted that he wanted to come with her.

It was only two days before the funeral and she was starting to get worried that they wouldn't show up. She constantly contacted them to try and see if they were either close or on their way, before telling herself that harassing them wouldn't make them arrive any faster.

Everyone seemed to be coping rather well with the loss. Even though everyone would come out of bed in the morning with red and puffy eyes, they managed to pull it together in front of each other while grieving for their old friend.

Everyone, except Brittany.

In the three days it had been since she had learnt of Santana's death, Brittany had not uttered a word to anyone. Quinn thought that she would at least cry when she was told, in fact she was pretty sure that she would collapse. Instead, she just stood there silently as Quinn told her what the news. Walked obediently to the table as everyone entered her home. Sat silently as Puck told her what had happened (Since Quinn had broken down before she could finish), how apparently Santana had been murdered by a stalker, that no one knew the cause of death quite yet.

Brittany had been obedient, she constantly did what she was told. When they told her that the funeral was being held in Lima, she simply nodded in agreement. When Quinn offered to pack her bags for her, Brittany sat on the couch and stared at the television in a zombie-like state. Throughout the plane ride Quinn constantly asked her if she was okay, if she was hungry or thirsty, anything to get her talking. But nothing. She simply nodded her head constantly, even when it wasn't the correct answer to the question.

They were all worried about Brittany. She wasn't dealing with the death very well. In fact, it didn't seem like she was dealing at all. She hadn't eaten, showered, or slept in three days. She simply lay in bed wide awake, only taking the smallest portions of food when offered to her. They had resorted to taking shifts to watch her, worried that she might try something while no one was watching her. Everyone took turns watching her during the day, while Quinn had resorted to sleeping with her at night. She would watch as Brittany would lie there in the darkness, her eyes reflecting in the moonlight, giving them the only light that had been there since she had been told about Santana.

Quinn was starting to worry if she'd ever come back, if she'd ever come out of this dark state. Noah had assured her that she would, that it'd just take time as she processed the news. But it never came, it only got worse. The circles under her eyes got darker, the light in her eyes got smaller, and her enthusiasm for life that was a high point in their old glee club had all but diminished, leaving behind nothing but a body with no spirit or soul. It was like when Santana died, Brittany had died too.

She couldn't say she was surprised. Quinn had known from a young age the way they felt about each other. She saw all of the stolen looks, the hand holding, the times that Brittany managed to emit a smile from the otherwise stone faced cheerleader. But she decided to let them be, to figure it out on their own. So she never said anything, never made a snide remark when Santana would look at Brittany lovingly during a number, or when Brittany would stick up for Santana when she was being picked on by the rest of the glee club members.

But Quinn had started to regret this decision. She had thought that maybe if she had told Santana that she knew about their relationship, and approved of it as well, that maybe they'd still be together. Which meant that maybe Santana would've stayed with Brittany in L.A, and maybe she would still be alive today. Noah constantly reassured her that this wasn't true, that nothing Quinn could've done would've prevented this mess, but it didn't help. Everyone had their regrets, a cruel remark made in glee club, an argument that was so pointless it was even laughable to look back at now.

All Quinn knew was that it sucked. All this pain and this suffering that everyone was going through just absolutely sucked. There was no other way to put it. So she carried on. Buried herself in organizing transport to the funeral for her all the former members of the glee club. She told herself that maybe, just maybe, if she managed to get all of Santana's old friends to her funeral, then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

Quinn was the only person awake in the house now. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, but Quinn had stayed up trying to help book Artie's flights for him. After finally finding an airline that would be able to fly him to Lima, she decided that it was time to go to sleep herself. Forcing her eyes to stay open, she slowly put all of the notes she had made onto a neat pile on the coffee table, and got up off of the couch. She made her way slowly up the stairs and began walking down the hallway.

Her and Puck's room was at the end of the hallway, the room she had used as a teenager. But she didn't make it there. Instead, she entered the first room on the right, like she had been every night for the past three days.

She opened the door as quietly as she could, not wanting to disturb Brittany. Once she had closed the door, Quinn glanced over at her bed. Brittany was only visible by her blonde hair that shone in the moonlight, the rest of her body covered in thick blankets. Not a movement was made, only the quiet sound of shallow breaths. Quinn tiptoed over to the bed, and looked over at Brittany's face to see if she was awake. She was, of course she was. She was always awake.

Slowly, Quinn crawled in under the covers. She snuggled up to Brittany, just as they had when they used to have sleepovers back when they were teenagers. But now there was a stark difference. Santana wasn't there, and she never would be.

Quinn glanced over at Brittany's face again, trying to see any signs of sadness, or any emotion at all. Her face remained still, a blank canvas. She was completely motionless, almost as if there were no thoughts going on. Her face was empty, as it had been ever since she had learnt of Santana's death. Quinn was going to ask her if she was okay, but then thought the better of it. She had all but given up attempting to talk to Brittany. She had spent hours during the night trying to get something out of her. She'd ask her if she was okay, told her that if she ever needed anyone to talk to that she was here. But all she got was a blank stare in response, and Quinn had realized that she needed to let her be, to let Brittany let out her feelings on her own.

This had become a bit of a routine now. Quinn would stay up all night trying to sort out everyone else. She'd go to bed in the early hours of the morning, and instead of going to her boyfriend's room, she'd go to Brittany's. She'd lie in bed with her, constantly checking her to see if she was okay. But she got nothing in return. Only an empty stare that never moved.

Quinn barely slept, only getting small power naps in between making phone calls and looking after Brittany. But she didn't care. As long as she knew that her friend was alright, nothing else really mattered.

It was the least she could do.


End file.
